


daring, darling

by skai_heda



Category: Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Peter Pan Fusion, Violence, and bellamy 'not with that attitude' blake, echo and roan are siblings, i hate this so much, starring tribal warrior princess echo!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:02:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skai_heda/pseuds/skai_heda
Summary: the plot, the pragmatist, and the boy who'll never grow up. sure, they've got this whole thing figured out.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake & Josephine Lightbourne, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Echo & Clarke Griffin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	daring, darling

**Author's Note:**

> whenever i use the word 'tinkle' i am NOT talking about taking a piss
> 
> this is also possibly the stupidest thing i've ever written

"Madi," Clarke says, "come on. It's time for bed."

The younger girl crosses her arms. "Are you sure?"

"Madi..." she sighs. "Mom and Dad are going to kill if they come back and you're still not in bed."

"But Momma won't be back until the morning!"

Clarke chuckles. "Exactly. Now, in you go." She pulls the blanket up to Madi's chin before drawing away to admire her work. "You better be asleep when I come back to check on you."

"When are you coming back to check on me?" Madi asks with a sly grin.

"I don't know," Madi responds, flicking her sister's nose. "Sleep."

Madi yawns widely. "Goodnight, Clarke."

"Goodnight."

Clarke takes her hair out of her braid as she walks into her room. Aden's been asleep for at least an hour—she doesn't need to check on him.

As she approaches her room, she hears hushed voices. Well, one hushed voice.

"Shut it, Josephine," a boy says. "It's _here,_ I swear. I saw it run into here."

And then Clarke hears—tinkling?

"Well, not with that attitude, Josie."

Without warning, Clarke shoves the door open, and it reveals the most attractive boy she's ever seen, wearing a rumpled blue shirt and a worn jacket. On her nightstand, there's a bright, cylindrical golden glow.

"Well," the boy says. "This is _incredibly_ awkward."

"Why are you in my house?" Clarke asks. Astonishingly, she hasn't hit him with a bat yet.

"See, I lost my shadow," the boy says, flopping down on her bed and leaning back. "My shadow's a devious piece of shit, you know? So Josephine and I—" (he gestures at the bright light) "—came back for it. Can't fight the damn pirates without my shadow, right?"

"Pirates," Clarke repeats. Like the stories she tells Aden and Madi before they fall asleep. "Like the ones in Neverland."

"Exactly!" the boy says with a large grin, as if she's answered a question right on a game show. "Neverland's at war, Princess. Have you ever noticed you look like a princess? You look like a princess. Anyways, I've gotta fight that war. The Delinquents against the Captain."

Clarke's silent for a long time before she starts laughing. She laughs and she laughs, finally sitting down on the ground.

"Okay," she finally says. "I'm dreaming."

"Uh, I don't think you are," the boy says, pushing off of her bed and walking towards her. He kneels in front of her and offers his hand, and Clarke notices the freckles all over his face, dark curls falling over his warm brown eyes. He smells like a beach, like fresh air and sea spray. Clarke takes his hand, and he pulls her to her feet. "I'm Bellamy," he says.

"Clarke," she responds. "And, uh, who's Josephine?"

Bellamy chuckles and looks back, jerking his chin towards her. The golden light flies towards her, and perches on Bellamy's shoulder.

"Oh," Clarke says. "A fairy."

She's absolutely dreaming. Hallucinating, probably. She really hasn't been getting enough sleep lately—

"Yeah, a fairy," Bellamy confirms. "Say hi, Josie."

The fairy on his shoulder has beautiful golden hair and deep brown eyes, and when she opens her mouth only that tinkling noise comes out.

"Woah!" Bellamy chides. "Fix the attitude, Josephine!" She yells directly into Bellamy's ear, and he sighs. "Yeah, whatever. Uh, Clarke, she says hi."

"Cool," Clarke whispers. "Okay. I am going to go to bed now. And I am going to close my eyes." She lies down and lets her eyelids fall shut, and she thinks she hears Josephine laugh. 

"Asleep yet?" Bellamy asks. Clarke is really starting to hate him.

"Clarke!" Aden says, and her eyes fly open to look at the small child climbing onto her bed. "Why is Peter Pan in our room?"

"My name isn't Peter," Bellamy says. "Or Pan. It's Bellamy Blake."

"Peter Pan!" Madi says, joining her brother on Clarke's bed.

"Why do these kids think my name is Peter Pan?" Bellamy asks.

She sighs. "I made up stories to tell them before they go to bed. Peter Pan, the boy who never grows up, and his fairy, Tinker Bell, and Neverland. They're just—they're just _stories."_

"Neverland isn't," Bellamy insists. "And my fairy's name is _Josephine."_

Josephine says something and waves at Aden and Madi before scowling at Clarke.

"Clarke told us about mermaids!" Aden says.

"And the Azgeda tribe," Madi adds, brandishing an imaginary sword.

Bellamy glances at Clarke. "How'd you know, Princess?"

"I don't," she responds, sitting up and covering her eyes. "This is a dream," she tells herself. "Just a very, very strange dream."

"Want me to pinch you and prove it's not?" he offers.

"If you come near me I'll strangle you."

"Oookay," Bellamy sighs. "Well, I've gotta find my shadow."

"Your shadow?" Aden asks softly. "I saw a shadow in my room before I went to sleep. It looked a little like you, I think."

Clarke frowns. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you'd probably say it wasn't real," he says with a pout as he pushes her shoulder. 

"Ah," Bellamy murmurs. "I will be right back."

He dashes out of the room and Clarke is on her feet in seconds, following him. "Bellamy!"

"Is it this room?" he asks, pointing towards Aden's room.

 _Well, it's just a dream._ "Yeah," she sighs.

"Thank you, Princess."

"I have a name," she snaps, following him into her little brother's room. 

"Yeah, yeah," he mutters, waving his hand. "Claire, right?"

"Clarke."

He turns around. "That's a boy's name."

"Not like Bellamy's a normal name either," she counters.

"Yes, but it's _sophisticated,"_ he says. Aden's drawer rumbles violently, and Clarke yelps.

"There it is," he says with a grin. "Here, stand by the drawer."

"Are you insane?" she asks him.

"Yes. Now can you _please_ go?"

Clarke scoffs. "Only because you asked so nicely."

He smiles indulgently. "See, manners always help. Now, when I open the drawer, you're going to give me a big hug."

"Uh, no."

Bellamy laughs. It's a deep, rich sound. "I won't bite. Unless you want me to," he adds slyly.

_Well, why not? It is just a dream. Must be a good dream if an attractive boy is asking you to hug him._

"Fine," Clarke concedes. "One hug."

He smiles and goes to stand on the other side of the drawer, slowly gripping the knob. "On three. One, two—"

"Three," Clarke finishes, and he yanks the drawer open. Clarke leaps around it and wraps her arms around him, holding on tight. It's less of a hug than a vertical wrestling match, for there seems to be something stuck between them. 

"Just give it a minute," Bellamy says, his voice stirring her hair. "Gotta let the process happen."

"I hate you," she says. One of his arms is over her hair and pulling it slightly, and it's rather painful.

"Okay, I got it," he says, letting go of her. He glances down and sees the faint shadow cast by the lamp Aden must've turned on when he got out of bed. "Shame on you. If you wanted to go somewhere you could've just _asked."_

He walks out of the room and back to Clarke's, where Aden and Madi are seemingly having an animated conversation with Josephine.

"You two can understand her?" Bellamy asks incredulously. 

"Yeah," Madi says excitedly. 

"Well, you must be very smart, then," he says, smirking a little at Clarke, who could never possibly understand a word of what that stupid fairy was saying. "Well, I guess I'll be on my way."

"Are you going to Neverland?" Aden asks. "Can you take us with you!"

"Absolutely!" he says, at the same time Clarke yells "absolutely not!" He sighs and looks at her. "Come on, Clarke. This will be the adventure of a lifetime."

"Yeah?" Clarke asks. "And how will you even get to Neverland? You gonna _fly?"_

He frowns. "Don't be ridiculous."

She laughs. "Okay. Enough is enough." She looks up at the ceiling. "Wake up! Clarke even pinches her arm several times, blinks, too. "I would like to wake up now!"

Bellamy snickers softly. "Well, if you won't come then at least your brother and sister can."

He reaches out towards her little siblings, palms up. "Here, take my hands."

"Wait," Clarke snaps. "You think I'm going to let you take my brother and sister away?"

"Uh, yes."

"No," she sighs. "Fine. Take me."

He grins. "In what way?" 

She scowls, holding out her hand. "Take me wherever you want to take them." 

Bellamy smiles, a real genuine smile. "I knew you weren't boring." He interlaces his fingers with hers, and Clarke begins to feel something akin to sleepiness, but not quite. She's still awake and aware, but a deep calm is settling over her, a calm so deep that it begins to worry her in another, vague part of her mind. Her eyes drift shut, and she feels like the world spins around her.

When she takes another breath, it smells like the sea. She sits on something soft, something she sinks into.

Clarke opens her eyes and looks down, seeing only white. A blanket? Cotton?

"We're on a cloud," Madi says quietly, lying down on it. Aden jumps up and down, testing whether the cloud will hold.

"Don't do that," Clarke says tiredly, also lying down—her head landing on something hard and warm and breathing.

"Oh, hi," Bellamy says, glancing at her head on his stomach. "Your personal pillow, at your service."

She sits bolt upright and slaps his shoulder. "Shut up."

Below, she hears shouting—below, a vast, turquoise sea glitters. A vast, green island is there, hills and valleys and mountains. On the far side of the island, there's only one mountain, covered in snow. It's straight of a painting—straight out of a story. And on that glittering sea, a large, formidable sea vessel rows along.

"What's that?" she whispers softly.

"The Ark," Bellamy whispers back, just as quietly. He glances back at Aden and Madi, who are trying to make angels in the surface of the cloud. "Commanded by Captain Thelonious Jaha, but everyone in Neverland just calls him Captain Hook."

"Why, because he has a hook for a hand?" Clarke asks sarcastically, but she doesn't expect Bellamy to nod grimly.

"Yeah, and the hand that used to be there is now in the stomach of crocodile that likes to hang around their body. Seems to have developed a taste for him. Unfortunately, Jaha can always hear it coming because it—"

"Swallowed a ticking clock," Clarke finishes softly with him. "What do you mean, unfortunately? Captain Hook is usually just an annoying pirate who likes to meddle in other affairs—"

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to," Bellamy commands, sounding sharp for the first time. "Hook's a lying, power-hungry bastard."

He looks at the kids again, and his face softens. This is something she can't quite comprehend, how much he cares about two kids he's known for just under half an hour. "Come on. Let's get you to my evil lair." Josephine appears beside his face, tinkling animatedly. 

"Yeah, yeah," he replies, waving his hand vaguely, before offering it to Clarke once again. "Come with me. Josie's taking the kids to my place."

Normally, Clarke would never trust her siblings with anyone else, but something about the way Bellamy says it makes her trust him. "And where are we going?" she asks, taking his hand.

"I'm gonna show you around the island," he says, walking towards the edge of the cloud.

"Bellamy, be careful—" she starts to say, but her words dissolve into a shriek as he pulls her off the cloud, and for a minute all she can hear is his laughter. 

_God. No. I am not going to die like this—_

And then there's wind, and she flies.

The world spreads out before like someone unfolding a map, and she and Bellamy are only connected by the tips of their fingers. Her arms are spread as she soars through the air, and though the wind makes it impossible to say anything, she falls in love with it immediately.

"You got a lot faster than I thought you would!" Bellamy shouts gleefully, grabbing her wrist and guiding her towards a lagoon, the water a shade greener than the rest surrounding the island. They land on a rock, and Clarke turns to Bellamy, who starts laughing.

"Here," he says, stepping forward. "Flying really messes up your hair. Looks like a bunch of lobsters had a gladiator fight in here." He moves clumps of it away from her face, combing his fingers through to somewhat return it to its previous state.

"That was an oddly specific example," she says, looking around the lagoon.

"Yeah, well, that's a story for another time."

"Where are we?"

"This, Princess, is where all the mermaids are," Bellamy says, grinning.

"Yeah, whatever, don't mess with me," Clarke sighs.

"What, you don't believe me?" he asks with a fake pout. "See for yourself."

He shoves Clarke backwards so that she topples into the water, her yelp cut off by the water's surface rising above her head. She allows herself half a second of panic before opening her eyes, and what she sees makes her heart stop. Boys and girls, all topless save for the various swim tops on the girls' torsos, swim around her, but where their legs should be, only one long, glimmering tail.

"Holy shit," she almost says, but remembers just in time that she's underwater.

Two girls swim up to her, and without warning they grab her shoulders and start to push her down, and _that's_ when she starts panicking, kicking as she tries to fight her way to the top. Clarke's head breaks the surface to the sound of Bellamy's raucous laughter, and she leaps onto the rock to shove him to the ground.

"What the hell, Bellamy?" she snaps. 

"Oh, don't get mad," one voice says from the water.

"We were only trying to drown you," another adds.

"Yeah, Roma and Bree are just having fun," Bellamy says, getting to his feet.

"Yeah?" Clarke asks. "I don't know if your brain can process this, but drowning usually ends up killing people."

"Okay, okay," he says softly, reaching out to take Clarke's hands. "Let's get you home so you can change."

"What about the rest of the island?" she finds herself asking.

"Nah, you don't wanna explore when you're completely drenched," he says. "I'll point you on your way."

"You're not coming?" she asks.

Bellamy shrugs. "I've got stuff to do."

She's tempted to ask what stuff this is, but the thought is driven from her mind when she finds herself being lifted into the air again. She and Bellamy rise into the air, and he points at a big, grey cylinder nestled in the middle of a forest clearing. "Go there," he says. "That's the Dropship. That's where all the Delinquents are. They're all the other kids under my care."

"Right."

"By the way, did you drink any of the lagoon water?" he asks.

Clarke furrows her brow—quite a fair amount of it _did_ get swallowed when the mermaids tried to drown her. "Yeah," she murmurs.

"Oh," he says. "Well. Okay. Uh, okay."

"Oh, my god, why, Bellamy?" she asks.

"It's nothing bad, I swear," he assures her. "I just. Never mind. It's fine." With that, he flies away.

Clarke sighs through her nose before starting to drift towards the Dropship, the air mostly drying her wet hair. She lands about forty feet away, but as she approaches it, a girl about her age jumps down from a tree, holding a large staff. She's got tanned, olive skin and dark hair, which is tied back in a ponytail. Two more people approach Clarke—a boy and a girl, with a large, swirling tattoo on the latter's face.

"Are you Clarke?" Ponytail asks.

"Yeah," she says, eyeing the staff. Which is now swinging upwards towards her face.

Now, Clarke can't exactly explain what happens next—some new, unfound strength shoots through her veins, ignites her whole body, and then she's fighting all three of them with her bare hands, ducking and swinging and kicking at the perfect moments. Somehow, she knows exactly what their weaknesses are, judging by the way they stand, the way they tilt their bodies.

It doesn't take long for Clarke to have them all overpowered and lying on the ground, and the staff is now in Clarke's hands.

"Get her!" more voices scream, and she turns to see about five more people sprinting towards her. Now that she has the staff, however, she doesn't have to worry—it takes a while, but her other attackers are also on the ground, groaning and stirring slightly.

"What the _hell_ happened here?" Bellamy snaps, landing beside her.

"Your kids all tried to attack me," she snarls back at him, but then her anger fades slightly. "I don't know what happened. Suddenly I was just good at beating the hell out of all of them."

"Oh," he says quietly. "So that was the lagoon's gift."

"The what?" she hisses.

"If you ever drink the lagoon water, you receive something. A gift. I think combat was yours."

"So why doesn't everyone drink from it all the time?" Clarke asks.

"Oh, you know," he says, walking towards one of the kids. "Too much of a good thing. If you drink the lagoon water more than once in your lifetime, something bad happens. Some bad event." He gently slaps the face of the guy who was with the girls with the ponytail and tattoo. "Hey, Murphy. Wake up."

"I'm up," he groans.

"Why'd you attack poor Clarke, huh?"

Murphy sighs dramatically. "Josie told us that you told her to tell us that we were supposed to attack Clarke, that she was an enemy coming to destroy the Dropship."

"Did she now," Bellamy says softly. He glances sideways at Clarke. "You alright, Clarke?"

"Fine," she says. "It's them you should be asking. I'm sorry, by the way."

"So you're not really an enemy," the girl with the ponytail asks.

"Nope."

"Okay, cool. In that case, I'm Raven, and I like you. You were really good with the staff."

"Uh, thanks," Clarke replies, then turns to Bellamy. "So what's going to happen to Josephine?"

"What do you want to happen to her?" Bellamy asks. "You can decide."

"Oh, I—it's fine, Bellamy, really."

"It's not fine, Clarke," he sighs. "They could've killed you if you hadn't drunk the lagoon water."

"She drank the lagoon water?" Murphy blurts. Bellamy rolls his eyes and nods before extending his hand to Clarke. "Let's go to the Dropship."

Clarke just sighs and ignores his hand as she walks towards it. "Let's just hope there aren't any more people waiting to kill me when I go inside." She begins to walk faster, and Bellamy soon falls into step beside her. "What happens if your drink the lagoon water more than twice?" she asks him.

Bellamy glares at the ground. "I don't know," he says quietly.

"You think it cancels out? You know, one other gift to make up for the bad event."

"Yeah, but the bad thing, the curse won't just _go away,"_ he says. "At least, I don't think it will," he adds with a smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He pulls a lever next to a big door, and it falls open, revealing a warm space inside. A ladder in the corner must go up to the higher levels of the building, and there are kids lounging on couches, blankets, and cots in the first level.

"Okay, people," Bellamy says, clapping his hands. "This is Clarke. She'll be joining us."

"Josie told us to send a team to kill her," a young girl with a crimson braid says.

"Uh, Josie lied, Zoe," he sighs, and all the kids gasp and mutter in response to that. Josephine must be very well-liked among the kids, Clarke thinks bitterly. "Speaking of which, where is she?"

All of the, glance at each other, and then at one spot in the corner with a few potted plants, and then back around the room, as if trying to hide the fact that they just gave away the fairy's location.

"Okay," Bellamy sighs, approaching the plant, and as Clarke follows him, she notices a faint shimmer behind one of the leaves. Bellamy flicks it away, revealing Josephine, who is currently braiding her hair. She exclaims, a slight grin on her face, but he looks unamused. "Josephine," he says, pinching his nose. "Why did you try to kill Clarke?" he asks. Josephine responds with a few angry gestures, finishing with an obscene one at Clarke, which she gladly returns.

"Josephine, it's not the first time you've directly disobeyed my orders," Bellamy says, seeming truly angry for the first time. "You could've killed an innocent. And that's something we don't do here."

He then turns to Clarke, seemingly unable to look at his dearest friend anymore. "You're banished."

Josephine flies upward, an expression of pure shock on her face.

"Go, Josephine," Bellamy sighs. "Don't make me ask again." The fairy drifts towards the exit, not even bothering to look at Clarke. It seems like a horrifically tense situation, and Clarke feels extremely uncomfortable.

"Anyways," Bellamy says after a moment. "I have news. The Azgeda princess has gone missing."

"She might've run away," Raven mutters.

"Unlikely," Bellamy says. "Echo would never voluntarily leave her people."

"So what?" Clarke starts. "Do we find her or something?"

Murphy shakes his head. "Too risky. We don't want Azgeda to find any reason to think it was us. Our truce with them is shaky at best."

Tinges of color bloom on Bellamy's cheeks. "But—we might have the resources to help."

"Hey, about Azgeda thinking it was us," the girl with the tattoo on her face says, "there's an Azgeda representative coming here right now."

"Thanks, Emori," Bellamy says, sighing. "Guess we'd better see what that's about, right?"

He takes Clarke's arm and pulls her to the door, and though she's a little lost as to why he's putting her in a role of leadership, she can't say she entirely minds. Outside the Dropship, there's a man with long hair and a bone-white circlet resting on his head.

"Oh," Bellamy says, a grin appearing on his lips. "It's the Azgeda prince."

"Blake," the prince says, approaching them. 

"Hello, Roan," Bellamy replies, a malicious gleam dancing in his eyes. "I would like to start by apologizing for the loss of your dear sister."

"As you should," Roan says, eyeing Clarke. "Since you're the one that took her."

Bellamy scoffs. "I fought alongside Echo in battle before. I wouldn't _kidnap_ her."

"Well, I never said she was unwilling," Roan smirks. "Echo does have a soft spot for you, doesn't she?"

Clarke glances sideways to see Bellamy cross his arms. "Funny you should say that. Look at you, assuming I reciprocate."

Well, it's not like Bellamy's doing a very good job of hiding the fact that he actually does. Even Clarke can see that, and she doesn't even know him. Even Roan sees through the charade, and steps back, adjusting his circlet. "Here's the deal; I am the only representative that knows the location of his lovely place you have here. If Echo isn't returned to us in twenty-four hours, I will tell my warriors exactly where you are and we'll reduce this place to ashes."

"I don't know if you were listening, but Bellamy already said we had nothing to do with it," Clarke snaps, making him look at her in surprise. "And Bellamy's not a liar."

"Well, who's this?" Roan asks, crossing his arms. "Echo's replacement?"

Bellamy huffs. "Clarke's right. We didn't take her."

"Twenty-four hours," Roan repeats. "Make it happen."

"Always a pleasure to see you as well, Roan," Bellamy sighs, turning on his heel, and Clarke follows suit, glancing back at the prince.

"I think I have an idea of where she might be," he tells Clarke after Roan is out of sight. "Remember what I said about Echo and I fighting together?"

"A common enemy," Clarke says softly, then turns to him. "Captain Hook?"

He nods. "Yep. If there's anyone who took her, it would be him. Also, stop doing that," he adds, looking at her hands. Clarke glances down to see she's idly been twirling a knife between her fingers, with no memory of how to do it or when she started to do it. Hell, she doesn't even remember picking it up.

"So," she says after a moment. "You and Echo—"

"No, no, no," Bellamy says laughing. "I mean, maybe it would've happened at some point. But no. I've never been worried about that stuff."

She nods, the glances down at her damp pajamas. "Uh, about that change of clothes—"

"Oh, no, I forgot," he sighs. "Here." He enters the Dropship and climbs up to the second level, motioning for Clarke to follow. On the second level, there's more bedding, and then a wardrobe in the corner. He opens it and tosses her a grey shirt, a dark jacket, and a pair of pants. "Trust me, they'll fit," he says, noting her skeptical expression. "Come down when you're done?" he requests, climbing down the ladder and pulling a hatch shut as he goes. Clarke gets changed as soon as possible and climbs down the ladder, to see Bellamy staring at the ladder. He blushes slightly. "Okay," he mumbles, then turns to the rest of the group. "I believe that Captain Hook has taken the princess of Azgeda. I was scouting the island earlier and I saw one of his smaller ships around Polis."

"Skull Island?" Emori exclaims. "That whole place is a death trap, Bellamy."

"That's why I'm going alone."

All the kids erupt in protest, but Bellamy raises his hands up in a pacifying gesture and they fall silent. "Fine. I will take one other person with me." Raven, Murphy, and Emori all smirk at each other, thinking it's going to be one of them, but then he turns to Clarke. "Clarke, you're coming with me."

"Uh," Raven says. "No offense to Clarke, but you hardly know her. If things get bad, she'll be another responsibility and she'll just slow you down."

"I think you of all people should know that she can handle herself."

"Against Captain Hook?" another kid says, adjusting his beanie. "I mean, how good is she?"

"Miller asks a great question," Bellamy tells the group. "Clarke has been blessed by the lagoon."

This statement causes an uproar, with one common question bouncing from person to person. _She drank the lagoon water?_

"Her gift is combat," he continues. "I trust she'll be perfectly capable should she have to fight the pirates."

 _Fight the pirates._ Clarke has a sudden desire to bang her head against a wall in hopes of waking up.

"Come on," he says softly. "We have to go."

Clarke glances at the rest of the kids, who look back at her in awe and respect. She had expected them to be angry, indignant, but apparently if Bellamy has a high opinion of someone, they do as well. It's a sweet sentiment, and she finally looks at Raven, Murphy, and Emori, who are smirking at her. Raven steps forward. "Okay, so I wanted to go, but you're new here and it's your turn for adventure."

"Yeah," Clarke says, because it's the only word she can say at the moment.

"Bellamy gets really stressed about things, so you might have to give him scalp massages every night—" Murphy adds, but Emori smacks him upside the head.

"Yeah," Clarke mutters.

"We're not mad," Emori says. "Just be safe out there, alright?"

"Yeah."

"Stop with the big words, Princess, my brain can't handle it," Murphy grins as he walks away, and Clarke makes her way to Bellamy.

"Why me?" she asks him.

"I don't want to risk the lives of any of my people," he says softly as they exit the Dropship.

"Oh, so I'm expendable, that's why you're taking me."

He smiles at her. "Glad you caught on."

"Fuck you, Bellamy."

His smile widens. "Where and when?"

She ignores him. "I'm not the right person for this, Bellamy."

"I think you are," he says. "None of these people have ever had the lagoon water. They're good at many things, but you—"

"Don't say I'm better because I had a weird drink," Clarke snaps.

"Just—believe me when I say you were meant for this," he says, handing her a backpack before shrugging on one of his own.

"Are we gonna fly?" she asks.

Bellamy shakes his head. "Too dangerous. We should stay hidden."

They venture into the woods in silence, a gentle wind rustling the leaves. 

"Do you think Jaha has ever had the lagoon water?" Clarke asks him, an idea occurring to her.

"Well, once, I think," he murmurs. "That's how he got the crew and his ship."

"So the lagoon doesn't always give you some talent or ability."

"Not always," he confirms. "It gives you exactly what everyone says it gives you. A gift."

"Let's go to the lagoon," she suggests. "If we can find a way to make Jaha, we could put him at a disadvantage."

Bellamy nods. "That's a good idea."

"Wait, maybe he drank it again and that's why he lost his hand," Clarke realizes.

Bellamy laughs. "Oh, no. There was a perfectly good reason that slimy bastard lost his hand. Drinking the lagoon water again is like liquid rotten luck. A curse. The bad thing happens for no reason."

"How do you know so much about it?"

He glances sideways at her. "I've known people who have decided to test the waters. Literally."

They walk in silence for some time, and before she knows it, they're approaching the lagoon.

"How'd we get here so fast?" she splutters, glancing at the shimmering water.

"Time is fluid on the main island," Bellamy responds, reaching for Clarke's hand, the one with her father's watch, which, miraculously, still worked after being submerged in the lagoon. "It feels like we were walking for a few minutes, but in reality, it's been about an hour and a half."

"How long has it been since Roan set his deadline?" she asks. 

"About two hours," he mumbles. "So we have twenty-two hours to somehow get to Polis—or Skull Island, whatever you wanna call it—rescue Echo, and then bring her to the northernmost tip of the main island and back to her people."

Clarke groans. "We won't make it."

"We have to," he insists. "The fate of all the lives back at the Dropship are at stake."

He extracts a miniature water-bottle from his bag, about the size of a shot glass, from his backpack. "This was supposed to be used in my last trip to collect sap for Josie, but I guess that's not happening anymore." He passes it to Clarke, who jumps down a few rocks and kneels at the water's surface. In the reflection, she sees herself, but not—her hair is longer and cleaner, a more vibrant shade of gold, and her eyes seem to shine. Her cheeks are rosier, and her cheekbones are a bit more prominent.

"Don't stare at the reflection too long," Bellamy calls. "It shows you exactly the way you want others to see you. See, I've never had a problem because it shows me exactly the way I am."

"Shut up," Clarke hisses, dipping the flask into the water. Before it's full, however, a hand rises from the surface and closes around Clarke's wrist. A head breaks the surface of the water, and she recognizes one of the mermaids who tried to drown her.

"Come back to play, huh?" the mermaid says, stroking the inside of her wrist. "Go on. The water's not cold at all."

Clarke flicks and twists her wrist in such a way that the mermaid releases it, and she quickly fills the rest of the flask. "Later," she says shakily, scrambling to get to her feet. 

"Come back," the mermaid says, her voice taking on a sing-song quality that seems to freeze Clarke in her place. "Come into the water with us."

Clarke's foot comes forward, taking a step towards the surface. This segment of the lagoon is separated by the main sea by a line of rocks, creating a small cove. As she approaches the surface, she's mesmerized by the difference in colors of the water—a poisonous, glittering green separated from a deep, shining blue.

"You're almost there," the mermaid sings as Clarke's foot hovers over the water, but suddenly she's being tackled, long and warm arms around her. She raises her head, no longer hearing singing, and she exhales.

"I said your name at least twenty times," Bellamy murmurs into her hair. "Damn it."

"Sorry," she mutters, untangling herself from him. "What even happened? I—I couldn't hear you."

"Siren-song," he says quietly. "When the mermaids sing, they can make you do anything they want. At least, the first few times they do it. You learn to resist it after a while."

Clarke glances down at the flask, which is full to the brim. "Let's go. We won't make it if we don't hurry up."

"Not with that attitude," Bellamy mutters sullenly, and Clarke fights the urge to smile at him.

They start their trek around the lagoon, Bellamy talking as they go.

"Once we're off the coast of the cove, we can just follow the beach, and soon we'll see Skull Island."

They almost pass the lagoon, walking by another small cove, when a small voice says, "Wait."

Bellamy whips around immediately, his hand landing on Clarke's arm. Slowly, he kneels against the edge of the water, and a beautiful woman rises from the water.

"Lexa," he says. "What is it?

"I heard word," she says in a lovely voice, worried as it is, "that the Captain was looking for you."

"He's always looking for me."

Lexa shakes her head. "He's on the island. At least, he has a few of his men looking for you. They want to kill you for good." She then looks at Clarke. "They know about the human girl. The one that looks like an angel. He wants her dead."

At last, a touch of panic appears on Bellamy's face, swimming in the pit of Clarke's stomach. "Why?" she asks.

Lexa doesn't answer—she just looks at him. "If they come, I'll instruct my people to lie. We never saw you. You were never here. You are going through the island instead of around."

"Thank you," Bellamy says, holding his hand out. Lexa takes it, looking serious.

"Do not lie to her. Your angel."

With that, she dives back under the surface.

"Let's go," Bellamy says urgently, taking Clarke's hand. For once, she doesn't resist, noting the panic still etched into his features. "The beach isn't safe for us right now. We have to stick to the treeline for a bit." He releases her hand after a few moments and walks sideways into the trees.

Clarke makes sure the lagoon water is secure in her bag before falling into step beside him. They walk for some time, and Clarke can't help but wonder how much time is passing. At the same time, however, she's too afraid to look at her watch.

A horrible sound rips through the air, a horn of some sorts, and Bellamy turns his head quickly.

"They're here," he whispers. "They're close."

 _They_ can only be Captain Jaha and his crew. "We have to hide," Clarke says, grabbing Bellamy's arm, scanning for any sort of cover. 

"I have a place near here," he murmurs. "There's a bunker nearby. Of sorts."

"Let's go there," she hisses softly, and he takes her arm, and together they run as quietly through the trees, with Clarke making sure to keep her steps light. He takes her to an ordinary pile of logs and leaves, but they both know this is the place.

"Here, help me with this," he whispers, and Clarke bends to push logs out of the way. In the distance, the horn blares again, making her head pound horribly. Bellamy pulls open a hatch, wincing when it creaks, and disappears into the darkness below, motion for her to follow. She drops her bag first before bringing the leaves and logs back, haphazardly leaving them just over the hatch as she climbs into the hole and pulls it shut.

* * *

"Oh," Jaha says softly, running his finger over the shining hook. A nervous habit. He doesn't have time for nervous habits. "I see."

"He thinks she'll save us all," Josephine murmurs softly. "Just because his shadow went to her." She pouts and looks away. "He's more concerned with her than he is with me."

"You want her gone, don't you?"

"Well—yes," Josephine admits. "Then everything would eventually go back to normal. Bellamy needs me. I think."

"There's word that the angel is on the island," Jaha tells her. 

"Don't call her an angel," Josephine snarls. "She's not an angel."

"Either way," he sighs, ignoring her, "Bellamy Blake will walk right into my trap and my men will have Clarke Griffin killed if—" Josephine opens her mouth to protest "—and only if you help me with just one thing."

"I won't help you if you hurt him."

Jaha waves a hook in dismissal. "Fine. But the girl?"

Josie examines her nails. "Yeah. Do whatever you want with her."

"My men are on the island right now, looking for her. While Bellamy is heading towards the trap..."

Her hands clench. "I have your word, don't I, Captain? That you'll capture instead of killing him?"

"Of course," Jaha assures her. "As for Clarke, my men are hunting her as we speak."

Josephine's face crinkles as a thought occurs to her. My dear reader, she has had a terrible revelation.

She elects to keep it to herself. This revelation, that Clarke may be with Bellamy at this very moment, could jeopardize his safety. After all, his safety is above her desire to be rid of the girl.

"Are we good, Josephine?" Jaha asks softly. 

"Yes," she says with a breathless nod. "I believe we are."

* * *

A low flame bursts to life in the darkness of the bunker, illuminating Bellamy's face with a golden glow. He takes a seat on a cot in the corner, patting the seat beside him. Clarke slowly approaches him, a shiver shooting down her spine. It's mercilessly cold in the bunker; the first climate in this entire place that hasn't been pleasant.

"Sorry about the cold," Bellamy says, scooting closer to her. "You get used to it after a while." 

"How much are you even here?"

"Not often," he responds. "But I have been here a lot."

Clarke narrows her eyes. "How long have you been in Neverland?"

Bellamy's answering chuckle is soft, laced with a touch of sadness. "Too long." He glances at the candle. "I forget how long it's been."

"The boy who will never grow up," Clarke whispers under her breath, and surprisingly, Bellamy nods.

"I haven't not been eighteen in forever. Years. Decades, maybe."

She whirls to face him. "What?"

He laughs again. "I'm kidding. I've only been eighteen for three years." The sadness reappears on his face. "It doesn't sound like much, but it feels like forever."

Bellamy glances at the flask of lagoon water poking out of Clarke's bag. 

"So nothing happens to the mermaids in the lagoon water?" she asks.

"They breathe the lagoon water. And as far as I know, there hasn't been a stream of good and bad things coming and going with them."

Clarke angles her body to face him. "What happens when you drink the lagoon water more than once?"

He frowns. "I already told you."

"Not entirely," she murmurs. "I know you did it, Bellamy."

He reaches out and takes her hand, and a different shiver pierces her. He observes her fingers for some time before sighing and releasing her hand. Clarke finds herself craving the warmth, the feeling of him.

"I heard of it when I first came here," he mumbles. "I took a drink. And I had the Dropship. It was—strange little things at first. My shadow wasn't always connected to me. I would walk somewhere, and I would disappear and reappear somewhere else. But there was a purpose to it, I realized. There were kids like me all over this island—kids who ended up here. The Delinquents. And my shadow helped find the others who were meant to be here. It would go to the mainland, appear in a house—and I'd have to go there to find my shadow, and the kid would come with me. Always an orphan. Always someone who wasn't wanted. But they were wanted here, I guess. And I loved them. I love them like they're my kids, my brothers and sisters. But some stupid part of me was just—underwhelmed by it, I guess. So I ignored everyone's warnings, and I went back to the lagoon. There was a woman who told me not to—right until the end. Lexa. But I was—so sure of myself, so sure I'd be different. I drank the water. My sister was murdered by the Captain the next day."

"These bad things," Clarke murmurs. "How can anyone be sure that it doesn't just happen to coincide with the water?"

He frowns. "Everything happens for a reason. Everything. But whatever bad thing is caused by drinking the water is—pointless. The Gift of the Lagoon is useful. It is essential to some greater plot. But the curse is meant to punish you for refusing to see that. Octavia was a good fighter, Clarke. But she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Clarke's heart aches at the way he says his sister's name.

"Things were getting bad," he says softly. Our alliance with the Azgeda tribe is shaky, the Captain was amassing more power—Neverland was thrown into war. Me and the kids—it was us against two large adversaries. Both of them wanted to eliminate us from the start. I got desperate."

"You drank it again."

"I did research first," he sighs. "I talked to Lexa about it, who had since then become one of my closest friends, the only mermaid in the lagoon who wasn't twisted, who wasn't rotten and bitter on the inside. She had a theory that drinking the water a third time would bring me back to the start. So I drank it. And I lost my shadow. And it came to you."

Clarke goes very still.

"I thought it was just the usual," he says softly. "But you were different. You lived in a big house with two siblings and two parents who loved you and loved each other. And you knew who I was. Through stories _you_ made up. You were the gift, Clarke. That's why I took you with me to rescue the princess. Because you were meant to end the war."

She gets to her feet. "Bellamy—"

"I _have_ to believe there was a reason, Clarke," he whispers. "I have to believe that _you're here_ for a reason."

He gazes at her with so much emotion that she has to look away, her heart pounding, a tingle low in her gut. "We should go," she murmurs.

"We don't know if it's safe yet," he says, his sentimental manner disappearing. 

"We're _running out of time,"_ she insists. "How long do we have?"

He gestures for her to come near so he can examine her watch. "Eighteen hours."

"It took us four hours to get from the lagoon to here?" Clarke asks, a sinking sensation in her gut.

"It's a big island," Bellamy murmurs. 

"We'll make it in eighteen hours, right?" she asks softly.

"Barely," he admits. "The trip from the main island to Skull Island takes a while."

Clarke groans. "We have to leave right now."

Bellamy glances upward at the hatch. "It's a risk, Clarke."

"I can take it," she says. "Gift of combat, remember?"

His eyes light up as he shoots to his feet and retreats to the far end of the bunker, returning with a small sword, the light of the candle casting the blade in a glow.

"A sword," she says flatly, taking it. There are sapphires in the hilt, and they also seem to be glowing—but from within.

He smiles and begins to climb up the hatch, motioning for Clarke to follow once he declares the coast clear.

"Let's go back to the beach," Clarke whispers.

He whirls around to face her. "Why would we do that?" he asks in a low hiss.

"The sky is completely blocked out by the trees here. And since we're not checking my watch all the time, we need to have some awareness of what time it is."

He sighs and presses his fists into his eyes. "Oh, god. Okay. Fine."

Bellamy grabs her hand once they're on the beach, as if she'll disappear if she lets go. The moon is high in the sky now, truly marking six hours since their evening departure. Bellamy's shadow disconnects from him, going ahead to scout the area, Clarke thinks.

They walk, and Clarke finds that she has to appreciate the beauty of the island, the way the sand seems to sparkle even at night, the ocean glittering under the loving light of the moon. 

But then she sees something, just behind a large rock.

"Wait," she tells Bellamy, letting go of his hand and walking forward. "Stay here."

A sound of protest comes out of his mouth, but she raises a hand. Either way, Bellamy follows her, staying close to her side. She approaches the partially visible head in the water, kneeling by the edge of the sand. Slowly, the head begins to rise.

"You shouldn't be here," Lexa says, her head now fully out of the water, her green eyes like the lagoon. 

"Why are you here?" Bellamy asks.

"My siren-song works better than all my other sisters," she murmurs. "The pirates are following you. Somehow, they know exactly where you're going."

Clarke doesn't want to think of the implications of that—that someone had sold them out.

"If they come here, I'll direct them elsewhere," Lexa continues. "I have to try."

Clarke holds out her hand, unable to express her gratitude.

"It's okay," Lexa whispers. "I know."

"Thank you," Bellamy breathes."

"You're—"

The sound of that horrible horn shoots through the sky, and Lexa freezes. The close proximity of the sound makes Clarke's head pound—she wouldn't be surprised if blood started to leak out of her ears.

"Hide," she hisses. "Go. Now. In the trees."

Bellamy grabs Clarke's waist and drags her backwards, putting a hand over her mouth. There's another boulder at the treeline, with enough of it hollowed out that both of them can fit, just barely. He goes in first, pulling her with him, holding her in an embrace. There's a piece of the rock that's been cut away that offers a glimpse of the beach, and Bellamy and Clarke put their heads to it, their cheeks pressed together. His breath is shaky, and fear simmers in the pit of her stomach.

_Not like a fairy tale at all._

In the corner of her vision, she sees a massive ship, the one she'd seen when she first came to Neverland.

The Ark.

At the sand, there's a smaller boat, and a group of people get off of it, lead by a dark-skinned man with a hook dangling at his side—no, a hook for a hand.

She chokes down a gasp. 

Meanwhile, Lexa's lounging on the rock she had just been hiding behind moments ago, examining her nails. The perfect picture of a careless mermaid.

"My lovely lady," Captain Hook says. His voice is normal. He, aside from the hook, is normal.

Somehow, the sight of that scares her more than anything else she's seen on the island.

"Captain," Lexa mutters, her voice flat and uninterested. "What brings you out here?"

"I could ask you the same," he says with a smile. "You're quite far from your home, aren't you?"

"My sisters exhaust me," she scoffs. "Is it a crime to seek solitude from them?"

The Captain chuckles, a sound that sends Clarke's heart rate shooting upward. Why is he scaring her so much?

"Have you seen two children out here?" he asks. "Almost man and woman now, I suppose. One with the smile of the devil, and one who resembles an angel. A princess among angels, you might say."

Clarke feels Bellamy's fingers curl into fists.

"You speak in riddles, my darling Captain," Lexa sighs. "I've seen no such thing."

"You're lying," he says, clicking his tongue in disappointment. 

"They haven't been anywhere near here," she says in a singsong voice. Her green eyes start to shine a little brighter, blinding jade lights. "They have taken the other way around the island, going straight to the Azgeda tribe to make their case, that they have not stolen their princess."

Her voice is soothing—it drives all thought away from Clarke's mind, almost makes her believe that they truly have gone another way, that they were never there at all.

The people behind the Captain seem to believe it, too, nodding and murmuring their assent.

"The lady speaks the truth," a man says from behind Jaha. "Let's go to the other side."

Jaha steps forward, and Clarke's senses become sharper, the delicate tranquility of Lexa's voice beginning to fade. 

"They are not here," she continues to sing. "The angel—"

It's a sharp, quick, precise moment. The Captain's good hand zooms up, grabbing her tongue. An odd, choking noise comes out of her mouth as she struggles, her hands coming up to grab his hand. 

"Titus," Jaha says to one of his men, his voice soft. "Come here."

A tall, bald man approaches.

"Get out my knife."

Titus does as he is told, holding a small blade up.

"Cut her tongue out."

Bellamy makes a small noise this time, his body shaking against hers.

Titus hesitates for a moment. "Captain?"

"The woman thinks we are fools," Jaha says quietly. "I want to ensure that she never fools anyone again. Never forces people to do her bidding again."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Titus murmurs. Such childish words, like this is nothing more than a game. Childish words, as Titus raises the blade and does as he's told.

There's a gentle, plopping noise as Lexa's tongue hits the shallow water around the rock, the deep blue turning the color of the wine Clarke's mother drinks sometimes. A horrendous, guttural scream tears out of Lexa's mouth then, fading as she loses her breath, then starting back up again. Clarke is sure she'll pass out as Jaha releases her, pushing her backwards into the water.

Bellamy's body slumps against hers.

"They're here," Jaha breathes. "Find them."

"Bellamy," Clarke says as quietly as she can, her lips touching his ear. "Bellamy, we have to—"

Wordlessly, with shaking hands, he withdraws a knife of his own from his pants.

Clarke shakes her head, realizing. "Bellamy, no—"

"I'll kill him," he says shakily. "I'll murder him."

He makes to get out, but Clarke grabs his arms and pulls him back as hard as she can. 

"You'll be slaughtered, Bellamy, _be reasonable—"_

"Come out," a man says softly, mere feet away. "I know you're here."

Clarke digs her nails into Bellamy's arm, a silent warning for him to stay put.

A head appears in the rock opening. "Found you."

She doesn't even give Bellamy a chance to react; she just lunges forward with her sword, the blade whirling across the air, finally sliding along the throat of the man by the boulder. She turns to face the rest of the group running towards her, their own weapons at the ready.

It's not at all like fighting the Delinquents—no, these people are way better at wielding their blades, way better at fighting. But slowly, one by one, Clarke finishes them off, blood staining the shimmering sand.

"It's not real," she says to herself, soft enough that she's the only one that hears. The moonlight casts a different sort of glow on the blade than the candle in the bunker, a live silver flame in her hand.

Bellamy joins the fray at some point, and Clarke only hesitates in her fighting when she hears a roar of pain. Blood stains the sleeve of his jacket, and Clarke takes out his attacker as soon as killing her own.

And at last, she is left to the Captain.

"Angels don't fight," he says quietly.

"I'm not an angel," Clarke responds, and lunges.

Captain Hook puts up a good fight, almost too good, good enough that he could kill her if he wanted, good enough that his knife inches from her throat, still gleaming from Lexa's blood—

At first, she thinks it's her heartbeat, but it's way too slow to be that, and the Captain seems to hear it too.

Ticking. Is it her watch?

"Push him into the water!" Bellamy yells.

Clarke does exactly that, before Jaha can even resume the fight. In the distance, she thinks she sees a crocodile, coming ever closer. Bellamy tosses Clarke her bag, before taking one last look at the Captain struggling in the water. "Run," Bellamy commands, and she does.

* * *

"Fourteen hours left," Bellamy murmurs softly, brushing a finger over the face of her watch. They've stopped in one of his other small hideouts on the island, a hidden house within a massive tree this time.

"Do you have a toilet or a sink or something?" Clarke asks. Her entire body is shaking. Bellamy points her to a part of the house hidden by a curtain of leaves and vines and she stumbles towards it, barely reaching the toilet before the vomit is out of her mouth. She continues to retch, and at some point she feels hands pull her hair back. Bellamy pulls the strands into a braid with alarming dexterity before moving his hands away to rest on her shoulders. 

She stays on her knees long after she's stopped vomiting, pieces of bark digging into her knees. "How long will it take to get to Skull Island?" she asks softly, feeling cold all over.

"We have to allow ourselves a four-hour round trip, plus one hour to get Echo. That whole part will have to be done in five hours."

"Which leaves us nine hours to get where we need to be on the main island," she finishes, shivering. Bellamy's hands leave her, and she almost cries at the loss of warmth until he returns and presses a jacket into her hands. It just fits her almost perfectly, with the jacket being just slightly tight in a few places.

"It's Octavia's," Bellamy says softly.

"Why was I so scared of him?" she asks. "There was something about him that was just—paralyzing."

He sighs. "This place isn't a good place to be. The world outside the Dropship is a nightmare, Clarke. It's not a fairy tale; it's horror. The kids don't know that, but they will. Soon. And I don't want them to live in a world like this. This was supposed to be safe for them, a place where they were wanted and loved, a place where they could be kids forever. Neverland isn't that place anymore."

Clarke thinks of the mellow stories she told Aden and Madi countless times as they fell asleep.

"You're meant to be here," Bellamy murmurs. "You were my gift, Clarke. You're our gift. And you can fight, hold your own. That's your gift because you were meant to come with me to get Echo, to establish the peace between us and Azgeda."

"Bellamy," Clarke sighs. "You always say that the gifts, the Blessing—you always say it means something. That it's part of some massive, predetermined plan. I'm not going to argue about who decides fate, but have you ever considered that the curses have to mean something, too? That those happened for a reason?"

His eyes harden, the warmth seeping out. "My sister wasn't supposed to die."

"You don't know that, Bellamy," she implores. "If your theory is right, then _everything_ happens for a reason. Not just the good things. Besides, wouldn't you get a little more closure knowing that Octavia died for something?"

"Don't," he says softly. "There are things that you don't know, Clarke."

"Wrong place at the wrong time," she echoes. "You have to at least consider that maybe she was supposed to be there. Octavia was killed by Jaha. You cut off Jaha's hand, humiliated him, took away his credibility as a leader. He took the princess of the people who are already longing to wipe your people off the face of this island. You found me. And now you think I'm the one who'll end the war. Everything falls into place in the end, Bellamy. The final pieces of the puzzle."

He says nothing, simply electing to walk away, bracing his hands against a table in the corner. Clarke walks over to him, reaching out to touch him—

She pulls her hands back, closing her eyes. 

"I'm going to go see if it's safe to go out," Clarke tells him quietly, before turning to exit the place. Before she's on the threshold of the door, a gleam catches her eye. Still in her backpack, visible in the small opening of the zipper, the flask of the lagoon water taunts her with its seemingly luminescent water. Clarke grabs it as she goes, if only just to have something to do with her hands. With the flask in one hand, she makes her way down the ladder carved into the bark, the coolness of the night piercing her even through Octavia's jacket.

She sighs softly, tucking the flask into the inside pocket, lined by such a thick fabric that she can't feel it even if she puts her hands in the actual pockets. Clarke withdraws her hands, rubbing them together as she walks around the base of the tree.

There's a rustle nearby, and she pauses. _God, I should've brought the sword._

She takes a step forward. _I guess I'll just have to rely on the good old one-two._

Another step. Her heart begins to pound. Not in the pure terror when she saw the Captain, but still in profound fear. 

And another step. Her mind screams at her to go back, to tell Bellamy that something's out there so they can take care of it together.

 _Coward._ She walks normally now, temporarily blinded by the need to preserve her pride. 

A foul-smelling hand closes over her mouth, a thick arm wrapping around her body, holding her arms to her sides.

"Scream and I'll kill you," a voice says. "And then my shipmate will kill your friend."

The man holding her slowly takes away his hand, and Clarke keeps her mouth shut. 

_Bellamy will find me,_ she thinks. _He has to._

* * *

"They have the girl," Jaha says softly.

"And Bellamy?" Josephine asks.

"They let him go."

The fairy exhales in relief, but Jaha shakes his head. The boy is part of a larger plan.

"You lied to me, Josephine," he murmurs, his voice dangerously softly.

"Did I, now?" she snarls, crossing her legs.

"You failed to tell me that the girl would be with him," Jaha tells her. 

"I didn't know."

"But you suspected."

"It was an omission of a possible truth," Josie snaps. 

"Omission of truth is as good as a lie, Josephine," he says. "I don't like liars. And I especially don't like people who lie to me."

Josie's throat bobs. Now, as you might see, my lovely reader, she is getting quite nervous.

"But everything should be going according to plan now," the Captain says. "So I'll let it go."

Josephine swallows again. Bellamy _will_ be okay.

She has the Captain's word.

* * *

"Hey. Wake up."

Clarke opens her eyes, squinting in the darkness.

"Who are you?" a low, female voice asks.

"You first," Clarke spits. 

"I am Echo," she says in a vaguely accented voice. "Princess of the Azgeda Tribe, sister to the heir of the Ice Nation."

"Oh," Clarke murmurs. "Lovely." She can feel a trickle of blood on the side of her face, and then a hand wiping it away. 

"Please tell me that was your hand," she says into the darkness.

"It was," Echo confirms. 

"How can you see?"

"Your eyes will get used to it after a time."

Clarke sighs. "We were supposed to rescue you."

"We?"

"Bellamy and I. I'm assuming you know him."

"Oh, god," Echo groans. "No. No, he can't come here—"

"Shouldn't he?" Clarke asks. "You've been kidnapped—"

"He shouldn't come here," Echo chokes out. "The Captain is waiting here. "He'll kill him."

Clarke's stomach sinks. "It's a trap?"

"My mother took me to the far side of our territory and handed me to the Captain," Echo whispers. "Said it was for the Captain's final plan."

"To kill Bellamy."

"Enough talk," a gruff voice snaps, and Clarke feels arms pulling her away, dragging her across the rough, rocky surface she woke up on. Once the person stops, she's pushed against another rough surface, with ropes curling around her ankles, wrists, neck, and waist, binding her upright to whatever's behind her. Someone lights a candle in front of her, and she sees the face of Titus, the man who cut out Lexa's tongue.

"I think it would just be easier to kill you," he says. "But the Captain had different orders." He turns his head, and Clarke follows his gaze to two women, mermaids, lying on the surface of the damp rock with their hands bound. Titus lifts a giant saw, and this is it, this is the end of Clarke's life, inside a dark cave next to a pair of fucking mermaids.

But no, Titus doesn't turn the saw on her—he puts it to the blonde one's neck. Nauseatingly, she recognizes the two mermaids who tried to drown her.

"Bree," the brunette says softly, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. "May the sea reclaim you in her loving arms."

"May the water wash away your sorrow," Bree responds to the other one—Roma, Clarke thinks.

"May you be kissed by the eternal sun," Roma finishes.

Titus lowers the blade, and begins to move it. Bree's scream is unbearable, mingling with Clarke's and Roma's, but it stops after a few seconds. Titus, however, does not stop, sawing and sawing, clean through the bone. Roma is roaring, her tail flapping uselessly against the rock. There's a mess of blood and muscle and bone matter beneath Bree's head—and once the head is off, her face lands in the puddle, and Clarke vomits. She can't bend over because of the restraints, can't hold on to anything. So the vomit just pools at her knees, mixing with Bree's blood, getting on Clarke's braid and clothes and jacket.

Now, Roma looks at her, almost pleading. But the moment passes, and her face turns somber. She mouths something, soft and barely understandable.

_May you be kissed by the eternal sun._

Clarke is already screaming when Titus drives the saw into Roma's neck.

Once it's over, once those two beautiful heads lay side by side in matching pools of blood and vomit, Clarke turns to Titus, her voice hoarse from screaming, and says, "Why?"

"The Captain has heard much about you," Titus says softly, setting the saw down. His whole face is covered with flecks and splatters of blood. "Only a fool would believe that you're here to end the war. We know that you want to stop him. Unfortunately, you don't understand the singular most important thing about this place."

He leans close, allowing Clarke to smell the nauseating stench of alcohol. "First, he wants to break you. The people on this island who have heard about you started to hope for my Captain's death. But we have to set an example. And that example will be you."

Clarke takes a shaky breath. "You won't," she murmurs.

"I won't what?"

She looks up. "You won't ever learn to look past what's right in front of you."

Bellamy lands on the ground, with a few people flying behind him, also landing. He drives a jagged knife into Titus's neck, and he slumps, landing near the mermaids. Bellamy looks at the remains of Roma and Bree, slapping a hand over his mouth before looking to Clarke. He cuts the ropes with the sword he had given her.

"The Captain's alive," he tells her softly, running his fingers over the bruises the ropes left. "Escaped again. Clarke—"

"I can't," she chokes out. "Bellamy, I can't—"

"Not with that attitude," he says softly, despite not even knowing what she was about to say. "Clarke, come on. Please."

Clarke gets to her feet, closing her hand over the hilt of the sword, the coldness of the sapphires pulling her back into reality. Her head is pounding, her body is aching. "You have to leave," she says softly. "Bellamy, you have to go."

He frowns. "What?"

"It's—"

_"ANSWER ME!"_

Jaha's voice echoes through the cavern, and Bellamy grabs her, vomit and blood and all, tugging her away. Clarke spots Echo tied to a cylindrical rock, with Jaha pacing before her, his hook shining even the darkness.

"I—don't—know," Echo snaps. "I don't know where he is."

Jaha runs his hands through his hair, looking like he wants nothing more than to tear it out. "But he will come to get you. He will."

It sounds almost like a question. 

"Maybe not," Echo says, in such a careless tone that Jaha lunges towards her, his hook sinking into the skin below her collarbones. She yelps in pain, and Bellamy sprints towards her.

"No, no, _Bellamy, DON'T!"_ Echo screams. _"IT'S A TRAP, GO BACK!"_

Bellamy tackles Jaha to the ground, and Clarke watches as he drags his hook down his face, making Bellamy grunt in pain. Clarke raises her sword and cuts Echo's ropes, and they join the fray together. Golden light zooms towards Clarke, and she's suddenly face to face with Josephine.

"I'm sorry," the fairy says, and Clarke's astounded by how clearly she can understand her. "It's my fault."

"I—"

"You have to warn Bellamy—"

Josephine groans in pain, her light suddenly dimming. She flutters towards the ground, and Clarke catches her in one hand, pushing her sword towards Echo with another. "You're hurt," she breathes.

"I sold you out," the fairy says regretfully. "And I tried to escape, but they caught me. Put me in a jar full of water. Water's bad for fairies..."

"Warn Bellamy about what?"

"The Captain has another plan. In case this one doesn't work. You have to kill him right here, right now."

"Josephine—"

"I'm sorry," Josephine says again. Her eyes drift shut, before slowly opening again. "You are very pretty. I'm sorry I hated you. I'm sorry I was so jealous."

Clarke shudders. "It's okay."

"Call the crocodile," Josephine murmurs. "Call—oh, but I suppose I am the only one who knows how..."

"Tell me, Josephine," Clarke demands.

"Chance and games," the fairy mutters. "Poison."

She fights a wave of irritation. "You're not making any sense, Josephine."

"Sacrifice," Josephine murmurs. "The old croc is always around this island."

"Sacrifice _what?"_

"If there's anything he likes more than the taste of the Captain," Josephine says gently, "it's clocks."

She closes her eyes, her glow fading, until Clarke just holds a small, lifeless body. She turns to see Echo and Bellamy still actively engaged in fighting Hook, and then turns back to Josephine. She tears a strip of her shirt off the bottom, just large enough to serve as a blanket for Josephine before wrapping the fairy in it and carefully setting her in an inside pocket. In that same pocket, she feels something else.

Gasping softly, she withdraws the flask of the lagoon water, holding it up. It glows in the darkness, beautiful as ever.

_Everything happens for a reason._

_(everything is coincidental)_

She will need to breathe underwater. To find the crocodile, she will need to go close enough that he can hear her watch, and draw it here.

Clarke carefully takes off her jacket, and still holding the flask, she runs to the edge of the rock, where she knows dark water will be waiting.

"Clarke?" Bellamy asks. "Clarke, what are you doing?"

She peers down at the black void, then back at the sight of Bellamy and Echo holding Jaha down. Clarke opens and raises the flask to her lips, smiling slightly.

 _"NO!"_ Bellamy roars. "Clarke—"

"Everything happens for a reason," she repeats, out loud this time, before drinking all the water in one go and jumping into the water.

* * *

The water tastes like nothing and it tastes like everything, like chocolate and like blood. She sinks deeper into the darkness, the need to breathe becoming too much, and for one horrible moment, Clarke is sure that she will drown.

Instinct wins over, and she takes a deep breath, knowing that she'll choke—

But she doesn't.

No, inhaling the water is like inhaling the sweet air of Neverland itself, and the darkness fades, revealing the seafloor just a few feet below her. There's a soft ticking noise, coming from her wrist.

And then a louder ticking noise, distant, but easy to hear.

And Clarke swims towards it, swims until she sees a pair of glowing, yellow eyes, eyes that go straight to the watch on her wrist.

 _Come and get it,_ she thinks, as she starts to swim as fast as she can back to Skull Island.

* * *

"We have to stay," Echo says softly. "We have to confirm it gets him this time."

"We're almost out of time," Bellamy says. "It'll take about four hours to fly straight from here to Echo's place, and we have only four hours left."

"What happens if you're not back in time?" Echo asks.

"Your armies will slaughter Bellamy's people," Clarke says tiredly. Every bone and muscle in her body is screaming with every movement, and she's covered in the dark, seemingly poisonous water of Skull Island, along with blood and vomit.

"Let's go then," Echo sighs, biting her lip.

"Wait," Bellamy says. "Wait."

They stare at the dark water, at the bubbles rising to the surface. And then, a small, bloody hook.

Clarke exhales softly. Gone. After everything that happened, everything he did, he is wiped away, forgotten. 

Eaten, probably.

"I can take both of you," Bellamy murmurs as Clarke bends down to retrieve the jacket.

"Don't bother," she says softly, shrugging it on, feeling the slight weight of Josephine's body in one of the pockets. "I can fly."

They are words that she would've imagined saying in a lovely dream, a safe, warm dream. A fairy tale. Not covered in blood, not in a dark, horrible cavern.

* * *

Roan is standing at the entrance, and he steps forward to hug Echo tightly.

"They didn't kidnap me," Echo says quietly to him, but Bellamy and Clarke hear it just fine. "It was Hook."

"Echo—"

"Where's Mom?" she asks sharply.

Roan frowns. "Why do you want to know that?"

"Because our stupid mother offered me up to the Captain as bait for Bellamy," she snarls. "Did you know?"

"If I knew anything about it, it wouldn't have happened," Roan mutters, anger starting to show on his face. His features soften just slightly when he looks back at Bellamy and Clarke. "Stay for one night. You guys could use some rest."

"We need to get back," Clarke says tersely, her sword dangling limply at her side, Echo having returned it before they left.

"It's okay," Bellamy says softly. "We'll stay."

He takes Clarke's hand, and leads them into Azgeda territory.

* * *

Clarke expected it to be cold.

As if reading her mind, Echo glances at the mountain. "That's the only part of our territory that's actually cold. But Ice Nation stuck because the First Palace was located there."

"The First Palace?"

"It was the base of operations when Azgeda was formed way back when. Just a bit of rubble on a mountain now, but its might wasn't forgotten.

"Right," Clarke murmurs, eyeing the diamond on Echo's neck. An ice diamond, Echo had told her. Perfectly cut ice, frozen forever. She wonders whether it feels cold against Echo's neck whenever she wears it.

"You should probably get cleaned up, no offense," the princess says softly. 

Clarke manages a dry, humorless laugh. "None taken."

Echo smiles a little. "There's a cove of water over there. No one will come there at this hour. You can freshen up there."

Clarke rises to her feet, but Echo grabs her hand.

"Thank you," she says softly. "For saving me."

Clarke's not exactly sure how to respond to that, so she just nods, giving Echo's hand a squeeze before letting go and leaving.

* * *

A head breaking the surface of the waves pulls Clarke out of her dull, thoughtless trance. She turns to see Lexa, looking sad. 

"Lexa," she breathes. "Hi."

The mermaid huffs out a laugh before raising her hand and waving. She gestures to the dirt and blood and vomit still all over Clarke, frowning.

"Long story," Clarke murmurs.

Lexa points towards the water, raising her eyebrows. Clarke laughs a little and takes Josephine out of her pocket, laying her down on the drier sand before walking into the water. Lexa grabs her hand once she's up to her neck, and they go under together.

"I couldn't save Roma and Bree," Clarke murmurs, somehow able to speak normally in the water. "I'm sorry."

Lexa winces, but she puts her hands on Clarke's arms, a reassuring gesture. Clarke then scrubs with her hands at all the stuff on her jacket, watching it come off and drift in the water. At some point, she begins to cry, her tears disappearing into the water. Through the flurry of bubbles her movements create, she thinks she sees Lexa try to say something, as best as she can without a tongue. Clarke can't exactly understand, but she thinks she already knows, saying it softly sometime later as she walks out of the water back onto the beach, as she turns to wave to Lexa one last time.

_May you be kissed by the eternal sun._

* * *

She walks straight into Bellamy, who immediately hugs her, his curls brushing her forehead.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs.

"I know."

"I didn't—I didn't want you to go through that."

"Yeah."

"But if I could do that again and get the same outcome, I would," he admits, gazing into her eyes. "You saved us. Me."

"It's a happy ending," Clarke says tonelessly. "Like every other fairy tale."

* * *

"And that was it, but it was _so_ fun," Madi says, her eyes bright.

"It was an _adventure!"_ Aden exclaims. "I wish you were there."

"Clarke was on an adventure of her own," Bellamy says softly.

"Yeah," she says quietly. "But now that we've all had our adventures, it's time to go home."

"Or," Bellamy cuts in, "you could stay."

Clarke glances back at her brother and sister sitting cross-legged across from her on the floor of the Dropship before getting to her feet. "I'll be right back, okay?"

She and Bellamy exit the place, finding a secluded area by the tree line.

"Clarke," he says quietly.

"They were safe, right?" she asks.

"The whole time."

She nods in approval. "I can't stay, Bellamy. Not after—not after everything that happened."

"Clarke—"

"I got two innocent people murdered just because someone else _thought_ I would kill them. You were right, Bellamy. It's a horrible place to be. And maybe—maybe I could survive it. But Aden and Madi? I—I want them home. I want them to grow up in a world without mermaids and lagoon water and pirates, and I want them to grow up in a house with parents that love them. And... I want them to grow up with me around. So if they go home—I will too. And they _will_ go home."

Bellamy sighs softly, before stepping forward to hug her. "I'm sorry."

She inhales, memorizing the feel and smell of him. "I know."

He withdraws. "You're a good friend, Clarke. You're—good."

"So are you," Clarke responds, but still, he glances back at the small stone by the Dropship, where Josephine's name is carved. She takes off her jacket and hands it to him. "Here."

"It looked good on you," he says, taking back his sister's jacket."

"I know," she says, a smile just hovering on her lips. "But it belongs with you."

His throat bobs as he swallows. "When do you want to leave?" 

"As soon as possible."

Bellamy's smile is sad. "I can make that happen."

* * *

Aden and Madi are asleep on the same cloud they had landed on when they first came, leaving just Clarke and Bellamy to gaze at the island again.

"I have a question," Clarke murmurs.

"Okay, shoot."

"Was any of this real?" she asks.

He smiles slightly. "Well, I guess that depends on you, Clarke."

She glances at her siblings, wondering, hoping, that maybe **—** Clarke would end up back in her bed, with the memory of this nothing more than just one horrible dream.

But Bellamy—Bellamy might have been her favorite part.

"This definitely doesn't belong in the perfect story."

Bellamy laughs quietly. "Most things don't." But the kiss, the kiss he then gives her—that kiss most certainly does.

* * *

When she opens her eyes, she's in her bed, already expecting the yelling, the confusion Mom and Dad would have, that she's been gone for so long, but she hears nothing. She's even wearing her normal pajamas—when did that happen?

She glances at the digital alarm clock on her nightstand, frowning slightly. It's almost morning, and—the date is only one day after the day she and Aden and Madi left.

Meaning everything that happened—it all happened in one night.

_Was it really just a dream?_

She feels something digging into her back, and she reaches for it, fingers closing around something cold.

Sitting up, Clarke holds a glowing sapphire in front of her eyes—one of the sapphires from the sword Bellamy had given her, no doubt about that. But as she watches, the glow fades, leaving the sapphire illuminated only by moonlight—leaving it as an ordinary, beautiful gemstone. There's a note next to her on the bed, and she turns on her lamp to read it.

_I gave you the sword because the sapphires reminded me of your eyes. Feel free to curse me all you want for that disgustingly sentimental reason._

_I love those sapphires. And I love those eyes. ~~I think I might've fallen in love with you.~~ I hope you remember me._

_—Bellamy_

Smiling slightly, Clarke turns the lamp off, putting the note in her drawer and setting the sapphire next to the clock. Perhaps it really had all been a dream, even the sapphire. Nevertheless, it's easy for Clarke to close her eyes and drift into a dreamless sleep.

When she wakes, the sapphire is still there, shining brightly in the morning light.

**Author's Note:**

> i kinda hated writing this lmao but whatever comments and kudos are epic so keep em coming my loves


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